


Say You Need Me

by crookedneighbour



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble, Dubious Consent, Gift Exchange, M/M, Unreliable Narrator, gore porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6441967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ramsay takes Theon to the Godswood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say You Need Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for eggpreg!

The Godswood of Winterfell was surprisingly unlikely that of the Dreadfort. How different could a bunch of old trees be? The trees the Stark's had kept were broad lush things compared to the gaunt trees of his forefathers. They had the same distant cruel eyes. The old gods were surely unkind ones, Ramsay figured, the men they fashioned were hunters and killers not so different from himself. Not that he paid things of that nature much mind.

He had brought Reek to the Godswood on a whim. The place left his pet quiet. Ramsay liked him that that; silent and subservient.

Reek was knelt in the snow, shivering mid-prayer. Snowflakes had found their way onto him with the whipping winds, and his face was red from the cold. Ramsay had generously given him an old pair of boots, if only to save his toes for a later flaying. It'd be no fun to take them when they were numb from the cold.

Ramsay stood behind him, his broad hands wresting on Reek's shoulders. He was a frail creature, bones loosely wrapped in bruised skin. In front of them, the weirwood wept it's crimson tears. To Ramsay, the tree was smiling.

"Are you cold, Reek?" he whispered, letting his breath tickle against Reek's neck. 

"M'lord has given me boots and rags," he answered, his eyes still locked with the tree's.

"You didn't answer my question, sweetling," Ramsay countered, giving Reek's shoulder a squeeze. The wretched thing twitched at his touch. It excited him, how thin he felt. Perhaps if he simply pushed a little harder Reek would break in his hands, like splitting a twig except with hot sticky entrails spilling from the middle. 

"I'm cold, m'lord," Reek answered softly, his head dropping. "You've been very generous.... I'd dirty any cloak you'd give me. It's my own fault--"

Ramsay clicked his tongue and Reek went quiet.

"Hush, now. You're lucky I'm in a kind mood."

Ramsay drew his cloak from his shoulders slowly and placed it over Reek's shoulders. Made with Ramsay's size in mind, it engulfed Reek in a swatch of pink and scarlet. If only it were the skin of an actual Stark, or the Stark bastard Jon Snow. He'd present Arya and Reek each with their own skin for their service and loyalty to him.

Reek seemed rather moved by the gesture, tears forming beneath his eyes.

"Thank you, m'lord," he murmured. 

"You can thank me properly when we return home," Ramsay offered. He moved to Reek's front, the red leaves of the weirwood fanning out above him. "For now, I'd just ask you for a kiss. That's more than fair isn't it?"

The tears continued to roll down Reek's cheeks even as he nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yes. My mouth is yours to do as you like," he replied. Ramsay studied him for a moment, letting his presence wash over Reek. "Please. Kiss me."

Ramsay's heart fluttered in his chest at that. As he leaned forward, the tickle spread down into his belly and the base of his cock. Reek's lips were dry and cold, but he opened his mouth eagerly. As Ramsay's tongue entered his mouth, he brushed his own weakly against it and suckled gently, suggesting plenty of potential later uses. The empty spots in his gums were soft and pleasant to lap at.

Ramsay wrapped one of his gloved hands around the back of Reek's neck, forcing the kiss deeper and harder. Reek let out a startled noise, but quickly accepted his fate. Ramsay gripped at the nape of his neck, as his kisses turned to bites along the bottom of Reek's lips. Reek let out a long pained whine and Ramsay's cock ached with need. He wanted to bite down on him like he aimed to suck the meat from his bones. He wanted to bite and suck till he heard the crack of bones. 

In a sudden motion, Ramsay scooped Reek up into his arms. He was light and Reek's limbs hung helplessly over the crook of Ramsay's arm.

"M-m-m'lord," he stuttered. Ramsay smiled at this. Sometimes he wanted to break Reek's legs so he'd need Ramsay to carry him like this everywhere, but he recognized the impracticality of the urge. He felt something vulnerable. It made his skin prickle. He'd punish Reek for it later, surely. 

"I'd like to tear your throat out with my teeth....  I doubt there's another creature as loathsome to replace you though," he admitted. Reek looked up to him, his eyes wide with fear and admiration. Reek had often told him how much he marveled at Ramsay's strength.

"Wha-whatever you wish....."

Reek's teeth had begun to chatter. Ramsay laughed.

"Look at me, going on and on, as my loyal servant freezes half to death," he mused. "Let's return home, Reek."

With that the newly named Lord Winterfell, began their retreat, his prize limp in his arms.


End file.
